


Luckless

by distractionpie



Series: 2018 Rarepair Challenge [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dating, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: Babe and Julian keep meeting but the universe keeps coming between them.





	Luckless

**Author's Note:**

> i feel a bit cheeky doing these two for my rarepairs challenge because they aren’t a rarepair in my heart but i had this fic half drafted after getting sent [this music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DMg8LwfXdyc) in relation to the ship a few months ago and i decided to finish it up and use it to ease into the challenge since January is a lot)

**1.**

Babe’s life is terrible. Really, truly, unbearably terrible.

He somehow got himself talked into promising to deliver Henry’s ex-girlfriend’s D.V.D collection back to her parents place, because she’s been asking for them back since the break-up but Henry couldn’t face seeing her and Bill had volunteered as a middle-man only to remember that morning that he’d also promised to give Fran a ride to her dentist appointment and left him begging Babe to cover him on the delivery front. Babe had said yes because Bill would not quit bitching until he did, thinking it would be a fairly simple half hour errand, and only discovered after Bill’s departure that his car wouldn’t start.

Which, no big deal, Babe could always take the bus. Sure it would take about four times longer because the bus went such a slow and indirect route, but he could put his headphones on and listen to that new podcast that all his friends were raving about.

Or at least he could for three stops because his headphones had crackled briefly and then died.

All that left was staring out the window at streets he’d seen a thousand times before, or watching the other bus passengers who were all even more boring than the grey buildings outside - either playing with their phones or reading their books.

For five stops in a row now he’d held out hope that somebody interesting would get on - like a loudmouthed kid, or an arguing couple, or even just somebody having a phone conversation he could eavesdrop on, but he’d had no luck.

At the next stop three people get on. Two women, both with earbuds in even when they get their tickets from the driver -so boring and rude- and a guy about Babe’s age.

The guy walks up the bus, stopping in the aisle beside Babe. He’s wearing skinny jeans and Babe strongly disapproves of public transit creepers but it's hard not to notice that the guy has a very nice ass when it’s right there and the guy is stretching enough that his shirt rides up as he lifts his backpack into the overhead rack on the opposite side. 

As the bus turns a corner, the guy loses his balance, managing to secure his bag just a moment before he tips and crashes into the seat beside Babe. He lets out a hilariously startled squeak as he lands and Babe lends the guy an arm as he straightens himself into a sitting position, telling himself that it’s just because he’s a nice person and he’d do this for anyone who feel and not just strangers with nice asses.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise the bus would get going so fast,” the stranger says, and woah, that accent. It’s definitely southern but Babe can’t place it any more specifically than that - if he hears a philly accent he can usually tell which street people are from but his life is all in the city and he hasn’t left it since going to his sister’s graduation the other year and that was only in Pittsburgh, the furthest south he’s even been was a twelfth grade field trip to DC which makes the stranger’s accent a bit of a shock.

“You’re not from around here,” Babe observes. He’d already suspected it from the way the stranger hadn’t known to sit down fast in preparation for the sharp turns the bus would make, but his speech is a dead giveaway. “Weird place for a vacation.”

The stranger laughs, and somehow even that has an accent. “Uh, no, I just moved here like a week ago. I’m Julian. Well, John actually but there are too many people called John and going by my last name is better than being called John number four or any of the other things people come up with if I don’t suggest... oh god, sorry I’m rambling.”

He is, and it’s kind of adorable, although he’s gonna get eaten alive in this city if nobody has even taught him not to talk so much to strangers. “I’m Babe,” he introduces, not even bothering to give his real name since he made that mistake with Spina’s roommate who now keeps calling him Edward despite Babe’s attempts to explain that nobody does that. “And I understand completely.”

Julian does have a phone, Babe can see it poking out of his jacket pocket, but instead of pulling it out he shifts in the seat til he’s angled towards Babe.

“So,” he says. “Where are you going? I mean, you sound local, so you must know where’s good...”

“Sure,” Babe says, “But I’m just running errands today. If you really wanna know where’s good in the city I’ll give you one for free though - the 506th is the best hangout in the city. Bar and coffee place, and none of that hipster artisanal shit either.” He pauses, then adds, “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that sort of thing if you like it...”

Julian laughs. “No, it’s cool. I like my cupcakes kale-free thanks. I’ll keep there in mind.”

“Where are you headed?” Babe asks.

“I’m meeting a friend in Wilmington,” Julian explains. “Well, he’s a friend of one of my cousins really, but he’s the only person I know anywhere near here so he said he’d take me out.”

“Then what are you on this bus for?” Babe says, perplexed. “It goes out of the city north then crosses the river.”

Julian frowns and Babe can’t help noticing the way he catches his lower lip with his teeth as he does it, biting hard enough that his lip is a bright red when he opens his mouth to say, “But if I stay on to the end...”

Babe shakes his head. He’s only staying on a few stops but this is an intercity bus. “If you stay on to the end you’ll end up in Jersey.”

Julian looks alarmed. “What? But my cousin’s friend told me to get the 142...”

“Yeah, the 142  _ south _ ,” Babe says, trying very hard not to laugh at Julian’s misfortune but not doing a great job of it.

“Oh, shit, I...”

“There’s a stop just coming up,” Babe says, “And the southbound buses go by a few minutes later than the northbound. If you get off now you won’t have lost much time.”

“Really?” Julian says, already jumping up and trying to drag his backpack back down off the rack. “Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver. I could kiss you-” and honestly Babe would be happy to accept that kiss, but Julian is already tripping down the aisle.

  
  


**2.**

Waiting in line is one of Julian’s least favourite things.

He taps his feet and rummages through his pockets and every few seconds his eyes flick over to the clock, acutely aware of the seconds slipping by.

He had told his supervisor he’d be there and back in ten minutes tops but that isn’t happening now, what with the checkout line apparently determined not to move at all, and maybe he shouldn’t make any promises he wasn’t sure he could keep but he’d wanted to make a good impression.

His eyes also keep flicking to the guy in front of him in line. He looks familiar which makes no sense because Julian only knows six people in this whole city and those are his co-workers who are all still in the office, while he’s out being sent for more printer paper since apparently something went wrong with their regular order.

The guy in front of him turns, and Julian catches sight of his profile and suddenly the finally thread of recognition pulls and everything comes together. “You! You recommended me that cafe-bar and I looked it up but I couldn’t find it.”

It had been a shame, partly because Julian really would like to learn some places to hang out and partly because he’d been hoping that showing up there would lead to them meeting again. the redhead —Babe, Julian recalls, and Julian hadn’t questioned the unusual nickname because he was so pleased to have somebody who didn’t question that he’d rather go by his surname than be John #3— turns to him and for a moment looked puzzled, then says, “Oh, you’re the guy with th- who got on the wrong bus.”

It’s not exactly how Julian wants to be remembered, in an ideal world he’d be thought of as the hot one or at least the one with the cool personality, but at least Babe does remember him. “So were you talking about a real place?” Julian asks, because he has been wondering. “Or is that some local joke I don’t get, a way to mess with the new guy.”

Babe screws up his face when Julian calls the place a joke, saying, “No, it really is awesome, they just don’t have a website or any social media presence. Dick is kind of old fashioned that way.”

Julian frowns. “So what, I just have to wander around the city until I find it?”

The grin Babe flashes him is positively wicked. “That’s half the fun.”

“I got lost just trying to take the bus, I’m not sure random exploring is the best plan for me,” Julian admits.

Babe’s mouth twists thoughtfully. “Gimme your number,” he says, and even though it’s casual not flirtatious Julian can’t help the flutter of excitement in his stomach. “I don’t actually remember the name of the street but next time I’m over there I’ll check out the signs and let you know.”

“Sure,” Julian says, fishing in his pocket for his phone as Babe does the same opposite him.

It almost happens in slow motion. One moment the phone is in Babe’s hand the next it’s slipping between his fingers, spinning as it falls until it hits the pavement with an obvious crack.

“Motherfucker,” Babe mutters, leaning over to grab it.

As he lifts it Julian can see the massive crack splitting the screen and feels a lurch of guilt at the fact that Babe pulled the phone out because of him even if Julian wasn’t the one who made him drop it. He’s pretty sure it’s broke but he can’t help but ask, “How bad is it?”

“Eh, I can probably salvage the sim and the memory card,” Babe says with a nonchalant shrug after looking it over for a moment. “And the phone is a hand-me-down times many, I got it off my friend who got it off his brother who I think might have got it off my sister. Somebody I know is bound to be due an upgrade and be ready to offload their old one.” He’s babbling a bit, but it’s sort of cute.

“Have you got a pen?” Julian asks instead, already kicking himself for the fact that he doesn’t.

“Wh-oh! To write down your number?” Babe says, delving back into his pockets. “That’s smart. I uh-” it takes a moment but then he pulls out a sharpie, offering it to Julian.

“I guess when we get to the front of the line, you’ll have a receipt I can write it on?” Julian would offer up his own but since he’s buying the paper for work he’ll need to hand the receipt in to the accountant so he can claim it back, although really he thinks that the $2.50 he’d lose in reimbursement is a small price to pay for the chance to give Babe his number.

In response, Babe rolls up his sleeve. “If you write it on paper there is a one hundred percent chance I’m gonna lose it,” he says. “Write it on my arm.”

The outside of Babe’s forearm is covered in freckles but the inside of his wrist is pale and unmarked except for the faint blue lines of his veins, and then the lines of black marker as Julian tries to write his number clearly without pressing too hard.

They’re at the front of the line now, and Babe pays for the contents of his basket as Julian recaps his pen.

“Call me,” Julian says, as Babe steps aside to let him reach the counter and Babe grins, tapping the pocket holding the smashed remains of his phone.

“Soon as I can,” he says, and god Julian hopes he means it.

  
  


**3.**

Babe’s ‘new’ phone is less than fantastic. He’d scrounged it off Bill’s cousin and his mom had raised him better than to be caught complaining about a freebie but it was barely better than his own shattered one. The headphone jack was totally busted, whatever the hell had happened to the screen it only registered touch if jabbed hard enough that Babe was pretty sure he was gonna end up with bruised fingers, and the battery life was so shitty that he had to carry around a portable charger for his portable charger.

But none of that matters when the screen lights up with a notification indicating another text from Julian.

In the past two weeks Julian has shifted from ‘cute lost bus guy’ to the most frequently contacted number in Babe’s phone. Babe’s a people person, he gets on well with nearly everybody he meets, but even by his standards this rapport is intense. He supposes it’s because Julian doesn’t have any local friends to take his attention away from Babe yet, and Babe thanks his good fortune even as he mentally plans how best to integrate Julian with the rest of his social circle. Bill keeps laughing at him, saying he hasn’t seen Babe so glued to a phone since he got his own cell in middle school and had it taken right back off him a week later for running up a forty dollar bill.

It’s not true, the first time Babe had been in a relationship had been worse, but Bill wasn’t around for that and Babe knows that sharing that particular fact wouldn’t help his case.

Julian’s just smart and funny and thinks Babe is funny too. Babe hadn’t realised how badly he needed to find somebody to properly appreciate his memes. And of course they’d shared snapchat usernames and it turned out that Julian took great selfies which was actually really unfair since all Babe could send in return were pictures of funky looking plants and strangers’ dogs, since every picture he tries to take of himself just comes out weird looking.

Julian is fantastic, how could Babe not ask him to hang out? 

It’s not a big deal. It’s certainly not a date. Much as Babe had been tempted, that seems like coming on way too strong given that their last two meetings had been total accidents. He was still trying to get a feel for it that was worth a shot or if he was better keeping things low-key and not making their blossoming friendship awkward. 

He thought about keeping it extra casual by inviting a few other friends along so Julian could know more people in town, but then he considers which friends and what they might have to say, and dismisses the idea. 

Julian agrees eagerly enough to a walk around the neighbourhood hot spots, though it takes a little longer to find a time that suits them both because Julian's working hours are regular and inflexible whereas Babe's shifts are scattered.  

Babe is unfairly jittery when the day arrives, it feels more important somehow now that they are meeting on purpose. He wants Julian to have a good time, to show him all the best stuff and make him feel at home in Philly, not just someplace he'd wound up because there wasn't much work back home but his cousin had been able to hook him up with something here. 

He gets there early, grabs milkshakes for them both then panics, because what if Julian doesn't drink milkshakes? Babe's pretty sure he'd have mentioned being a vegan, in his experience vegans always do, but it's not like they've talked about allergies. He could be lactose intolerant and feels pressured into drinking the milkshake anyway to be polite and then Babe would have poisoned him! 

Panicking, he downs both milkshakes to dispose of the evidence, grimacing from brain freeze as he tosses the paper cups into the trash and waits.

And waits.

Five minutes could just be Julian not being very punctual. Ten could mean he’s missed his bus.

At fifteen minutes, he pulls out his phone and sends a text.

**_Hey... did you get busy?_ **

That’s not too cling right? Not pushy. Babe doesn’t want to be the guy that’s sulky with people for having other things going on in their life, but he’s not going to stand around and get blown off either.

The response is two texts in quick succession.

**_no.i'm waiting_ **

**_but it’s okay if you have to cancel_ **

If he has to cancel? He’s the one waiting right underneath the ten foot high sign they agreed to meet at while Julian is… oh no. Julian is new to the city. New and had already made his terrible navigation skills quite clear. How could Babe forget?

**_where are you rn?_ **

There’s a long pause, then his phone vibrates in his hand as the notification for a picture attachment appears on screen.

He opens it and groans.

Julian has somehow managed to find a different ten foot high sign advertising innuendo laden hot dogs. How did Babe not already know that was there?

With the piece of shit phone it takes him a few moments to search around and work out where this other sign is, and in those moments he’s hopeful that the answer will be somewhere nearby and Babe can jog over to Julian and they can laugh about it as they work.

It’s by the highway, across town.

Of course.

He could tell Julian he’s running late and try to get across town, but it would be at least half an hour and that’s a lot of time to leave Julian waiting around for. He could claim that something has come up and he’s sorry about the last minute cancellation, to spare them both the embarrassment of the misunderstanding, but Babe isn’t the kind of guy who stands people up or cancels on them at the last minute for dumb reasons.

He phones Julian. “Uh… Jules, hey. I am so sorry.”

“You aren’t coming?” Julian says, and Babe thinks he’s sounds disappointed and it makes his stomach feel twisty.

“I… gave you bad directions,” he admits. “I’m at a suggestive hot dog sign and you have apparently found a whole other suggestive hot dog sign that I wasn’t aware of when I planned this or I’d have been more specific.”

“I did think it seemed like an odd place to meet,” Julian says. “I should have checked.

“No!” Oh god, he can’t make Julian awkward. “No, totally my bad. I’m the local. I am so sorry. But I… you’re kind of far away to get to right now.”

“It’s okay. I… I’m sure I can keep getting by without the guided tour.”

“We should meet up some other time!” he says. He read once somewhere about how if you were cancelling or rejecting a plan you should always be the one to suggest an alternative to show that you weren’t blowing the other person off. “Dinner!” Is that too much? Well, he’s said it now. “Tomorrow night? I know a place. And it’s on google maps.”

“Uh, sure,” Julian says. “Send me a link, I’ll make sure to save the right directions.”

“Great,” Babe says. “Great, great, oh god, really—” his phone has just buzzed with the notification that he’s reaching the limits of his plans. “I’ve gotta let you go before my phone cuts you off. But I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He’s not sure he got all the words out before he phone cut out. Fuck, he hopes so.

  
  


**4.**

Julian has spent way too long in front of his mirror.  

But Babe asked him out!  

Well, invited him out. He's not sure it's quite the same thing. He hopes it’s a date but Babe hasn’t called it a date and Julian doesn’t want to say the D-word in case he’s misread this whole situation because as disappointing as Babe only wanting to be friends would be, Babe getting weirded out by Julian assuming too much would be even worse. 

But it’s dinner (or maybe  _ Dinner _ ) and so he doesn’t think it’ll look too weird if he dresses up a little. He’s not gonna wear a tie --that would be weird and anyway he’s always hated the feeling of having stuff too close to his neck-- but he wears a button-down shirt and borrows his roommate’s girlfriend’s hair straightener to get the creases out, jeans that are actually clean instead of the pair he’s been wearing for a week straight. 

He’s pretty pleased with the end result. It doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard, but he doesn’t look like a slob either. 

In the interests of an informed strategy he’d texted his cousin to ask about the restaurant Babe had picked. His cousin had been confused as to why he’d care and his answer, “It’s just a regular restaurant. Y’know. Where people eat,” hadn’t been very helpful. Best Julian could gather from scanning the yelp reviews it seemed like he was right though, it was a mid-range sort of place, family friendly but not the sort of family friendly that people wouldn’t go there for a date. Or just as friends. Because that might be all this was, and he was pretty sure that trying to weasel more hints out of Babe via text would be way too obvious. Not that Julian minded being obvious in general, communication was what relationships were about, but right now Babe was also his only friend in town so he really couldn’t afford to blow it.  

Arriving twenty minutes early is probably a touch excessive but it does leave him plenty of time to speak with the hostess and check he has the correct location this time. 

Because Babe made a reservation. That’s another point in the column of ‘Julian has a chance’ rather than ‘Babe is just being nice to a newcomer’.

The tone in which the hostess says, “Oh! You’re who Babe’s with,” feels like it also ought to go into one of the columns, but he’s not sure which.

He people watches while he waits. He can picture Babe here, with it’s easy mix of college kids and families, a laughing group of guys in suits at one table in the corner, a group of girls in some kind of sports uniform crowded around the bar. It’s a good place. Even if this turns out not to be a date he’ll be glad of the invite, just like he is of all of the other tips Babe has given him about making it in the city.

Babe arrives precisely on time, and it makes Julian wonder if he’d been so prompt yesterday only to find himself left waiting because Julian got lost.

“Hey!”

The smile that brightens his face as he spots Julian is… well, it makes Julian think that maybe he is in with a shot after all.

Babe definitely eats here often because he doesn’t really let Julian get a good look at the menu, too busy leaning over the table to point out his favourites and make recommendations. Babe, he learns, really likes sweet potato and while honestly Julian is kind of indifferent to it he knows he’s going to end up choosing the sweet potato fries as his side because the enthusiasm in Babe’s face more than makes up for the fact that they’re the inferior kind of potato.

A waitress swoops over to take their order as soon as Babe stops pointing things out long enough that Julian can put the menu down, but before she does so she leans over and lights the candle on the middle of the table and it makes Julian’s heart flutter. Sure, most of the tables have candles on them, but still, that’s mood lighting and Babe didn’t say no.

They chat as they wait for their orders, Babe wants to know more about Julian’s boring job and, though he can’t imagine why it’s of interest, he goes along with Babe’s wishes, talking about how the company does some really cool stuff backing youth sports development but Julian’s current role mostly just involves being the guy that fetches coffee and printer paper and does random admin for the people who are actually experienced enough to have contracts but he’s hoping that once he’s got a little experience he’ll actually be allowed some creative or organisational input too. Babe seems pretty interested in that, wants to know about whether this job has opportunities for advancement or if he’d have to apply somewhere else once he had the relevant experience, but the truth is that Julian doesn’t know, he’s mostly just focused on getting through the six months of his contract for now.

Babe, he learns, works a lot of odd jobs. But it’s not, Babe is quick to point, that he can’t hold down a single job (Julian would never have doubted him and says so, pleased by the smile Babe flashes him in response) but he works for a lot of family businesses that can’t afford a full time employee but could use some occasional help. Babe’s grown up in the neighbourhood and starting with weekend jobs in his teens he’s worked up a reputation as a solid go to guy for local business, he hauls boxes at a nearby bakery on Tuesday and Saturday mornings when their deliveries come in, a local bar on Friday and Saturday nights when they’re busiest, puts in a few afternoons every week of babysitting and tutoring for various families, but he also picks up odd shifts of all kinds of other work. Tax season, he pronounces grimly, is a nightmare.  The unpredictability sounds stressful to Julian, but the way Babe tells it he enjoys the flexibility and seems to trust in the fact that there will always be some sort of work available if he wants it.

The food comes out shortly after that, the timing just long enough that Julian trusts it’s been cook from scratch and not just reheated (it’s not that he doesn’t trust Babe’s restaurant choices, but his cousins is in the restaurant industry and has a horror story for every culinary occasion) and it’s as good as Babe said.

He reaches out for the salt but Babe reaches for the pepper at the same time and their hands brush at the centre of the table and he can feel the heat rush through him but it’s not until he ducks his head to hide his sudden blush that he sees one of them has knocked the candle over and the flames are spreading rapidly across the tablecloth.

Another thing he learns about Babe that night: he’s very creative with obscenities.

If Julian were picking tablecloths that he was going to put candles on his thinks his top criteria would be a nice flame-retardant material. The restaurant’s owners clearly had other priorities, because the fire has spread over the whole table in moments.

He pushes his chair back and stands, across the table Babe has overturned his drink and put out a section of the fire but it still burns. A server is hurrying over, fire extinguisher in hand, but it’s too late.

The rooms fire detectors have clearly registered the smoke or the heat, because there’s a sudden earsplitting wail and then the sprinklers turn on.

Perfect.

The servers are already directing people towards the exits. Julian feels his stomach twist in knots at the way people from the surrounding tables glare at them as they file out and Babe seems to be trying to burrow into his sweater. They’re some of the last people to leave, except the staff, because Julian would feel bad about pushing in front of people trying to exit when they were the cause of the evacuation.

As soon as they get outside, however, Babe grabs him by the arm and pulls him away from the crowd.

“We have to go!” Babe hisses.

“What?” he looks really freaked out, even though the fire wasn’t that big. “I’m pretty sure we’re far enough away out here, and I’m sure they’ll get things under control soon. It looked like the sprinklers had mostly put it out already.”

“No, you don’t get it. I have friends who are firefighters.” He’s tugging urgently at Julian’s sleeve. “If this gets back to them I’ll never live it down.”

“What about the bill?” Julian protests. Setting the restaurant on fire might have been an honest mistake, but if they follow it up by skipping out on the bill then they’re definitely crossing the douchebag horizon.

“We only had drinks,” Babe replies. “And I paid for them at the bar, so it’s cool.”

“Okay,” Julian says. He’s not really sure about this, but Babe looks frantic, and he ends up having to jog Babe hurries his exit so much, not slowing down until they’re a few blocks away.

“Oh my god,” Babe groans. “I’m never gonna be able to show my face here again.”

“It wasn’t really our fault,” Julian points out, feeling awful at the thought that Babe’s favourite place might be ruined for him by this experience. “I set my shirt sleeve on fire with a sparkler at a July 4th party a few years back and it didn’t go up in flames like that did, so they should have picked better table cloth material.”

“You think?” Babe looks so hopeful that Julian can’t bear to acknowledge that the restaurant staff probably won’t see it that way.

“Sure.” He says. “I think you’re right about staying away for a little while at least. Maybe pick somewhere that doesn’t do candles next time.” If there’s even going to be a next time after how badly this went.

“No candles,” Babe repeats. “It’s a deal. For now I know a sandwich place that should definitely be safe, since, y’know, I made you run away from the scene instead of getting dinner.”

“Sandwiches sound great.”

  
  


**5.**

Despite the disaster that was dinner, Julian doesn’t try and duck out of seeing Babe again, even though Babe wouldn’t have blamed him for deciding he didn’t need to risk more bad luck.

Finally, Babe gets to give Julian the tour he’s been promising.

They’re passing by the weird goat statue, which is not exactly iconic but is one of Babe’s favourite pieces of art and a useful landmark to know. Babe turns to it point out to Julian, but then the world upends and all he sees is concrete.

He opens his eyes to a cloudy sky which is quickly obscured by Julian’s worried face.

“Babe! Oh shit! Are you… how many fingers am I holding up?”

Babe squints at him but… “Uh, you aren’t?”

“Oh!”

Julian waves a hand in front of his face, too fast and too close for him to focus at first, but then he pulls it back and Babe can count.

“Four.”

“Right, good,” Julian says. “But you’re still bleeding a lot.”

Huh. So that’s why Babe’s face feels all wet. He reaches up to touch the damp spot and his fingertips come away tacky with blood.

“What happened?”

“You… uh…” Julian looks away bashfully.

Babe sighs, sitting up. Other than his head he feels alright. “It’s okay, just tell me.”

“You tripped over a flowerpot.”

A flowerpot. Huh.

“Well that’s not so bad,” he decides. “At least it wasn’t a banana skin or something.”

“I don’t think that happens to people in real life.”

“If it was going to happen to anybody, it would happen to me,” Babe admits. He’s not a klutz, he’s just cursed.

“But you went down the steps as you fell and your head hit the handrail pretty hard and I really think you ought to get that checked out.”

Babe touches his fingers to his head again, starts to frown but then stops when the shift of the muscles pulls at the wound and makes it sting. He’s not in the habit of freaking out and seeking medical treatment for every minor injury, he’d never get out of the clinic if he did, but this one is hard to assess. It’s bleeding a lot, but he’s seen enough smacked heads on other people to know that cuts to the heat always do but that doesn’t actually mean they’re serious. He could go find some shop-front to look at his reflection in, try and judge it that way, but Julian is looking so worried that Babe isn’t sure he’d accept Babe’s judgement that everything is fine anyway. 

“Okay,” he says. “There’s a clinic I know not far from here. But you’re going to have to be in charge of crossing roads because I can’t look out for traffic with blood in my eyes.”

*

It doesn’t take them long to get checked in and Babe situation in one of the poky consultations rooms that he’s pretty sure were supposed to be closets in the original plan, back when the building was for office space.

“Afternoon Babe,” 

“Hi, Renee,” he says, a little bashful. The familiarity in her tone doesn’t just come with having friends in common, everybody at the clinic is far too used to him turning up.

She sets to cleaning up his wound without discussion. Already knows all of Babe’s allergies and that he doesn’t need how this goes explaining to him. “You know, if you miss our company you can visit without being a patient. We can always use more people to mop floor and change bed-sheets.”

“I’ll try and swing by sometimes,” he promises. “So, what’s the diagnoses? Is my face going to fall off?” Out of the corner of his eye he can see Julian looking on with alarm, but Renee just laughs.

“I think some stitches will save you. Just let me numb the area

“Aw, c’mon, do you really need to…?” Babe starts. Having his face numbed is such a weird, uncomfortable feeling, and it’s going to ruin the rest of his afternoon with Julian.

“Yes,” Renee says, firmly, already fishing the anaesthetic cream from the trolley. “Because otherwise you flinch when I’m trying to put the stitches in and it makes them turn out badly. And I’m sure your… friend here doesn’t want me making a mess of that handsome face.”

‘…friend’. Oh no. Renee knows something. How? For sure if he’s being gossipped about then Babe is never surprised to hear the stories have made their way to the clinic, but he’s been so careful to avoid drawing that sort of attention, not when he hadn’t got things in the bag with Julian yet. He opens his mouth to ask but Renee just shushes him and jabs her needle into his face, a strange but painless sensation as she starts closing the gash.

Her work is quick and very efficient. So much so that Babe didn’t dare try and act like he needs Julian to hold his hand for reassurance because it would just make him seem like a massive chicken and be an insult to Renee’s efficiency and her bedside manner.

“Stay put,” Renee orders when she’d done, wiping the area clean again of the stray drops of blood that had slipped out while she was still working. “Anna will be along in a minute or two with the paperwork to sign you out and let you out the side door. You’re lucky that Spina was out for lunch when you came in, if you sneak out you can keep him from seeing you and stopping this getting out,” she suggests.

Babe shakes his head, then tries to grimace at how woozy it makes him feel only to find his face is too numb to move like that. He groans instead. “No point,” he says, waving at the line of stitches. Renee’s work is neat and discreet but she’s not magic and Babe isn’t going to be able to hide what has happened. And it would be no good trying to own up to the injury but not to who he was with when it happened. Babe was okay at keeping secrets as long as he wasn’t challenged but apparently he made a face when he was lying and he didn’t think the numbing would save him from that. “Thanks though.”

Renee smiles and steps out, leaving Babe and Julian waiting together in the tiny room.

“Wow, you really do know somebody everywhere in this neighbourhood, don’t you.” Julian sounds a little awed. Clearly he’s never experienced how annoying it is to have what feels like a whole city people constantly up in his business.

“And everybody knows me,” Babe agrees. They’ll all know Julian too soon, if he has his way.

  
  


**+1.**

Julian’s life is terrible. Really, truly, unbearably terrible.

He’s finally got a date with Babe, one that’s absolutely definitely confirmed by both of them to be a date, mostly because one of Babe’s friends had started yelling loud enough to be overheard while they were on the phone arranging it, but Babe hadn’t denied it so when he’d come back from telling whoever it was to push off, Julian had said, “A date, huh?” and felt suave as shit when Babe had stuttered but not denied it. There’s a picnic all packed up in his backpack as he waits by the picnic tables near the entrance for Babe to arrive, but just as Babe’s car pulls into the lot he feels a drip.

_ Drip  _ on the end of his nose.

_ Drip _ ,  _ drip  _ on each of his ears.

_ Drip _ ,  _ drip _ ,  _ drip  _ as rain falls with increasing force from a sky that had been clear not five minutes ago.

He’d checked the forecast. He’d checked it yesterday when he was finalising the plans, and this morning when he was deciding what to wear, and right before he left his apartment just in case there was a change and every time it had given him the all clear but now that he and Babe are together the sky has darkened and it shows no indication of being a passing shower.

“Hey,” Babe greets. “So, about that picnic,” he says, with a glace skyward. He seems resigned and Julian can’t really blame him when there are icy droplets hammering at him and Babe’s jacket doesn’t even have a hood.

“It’s fine,” Julian insists. He refuses to have finally landed a date with the most attractive guy in the city only to have it screwed up by a bit of rain. “We can sit under a tree. There’s loads with leaves thick enough to keep us dry.”

In the worst bit of dramatic timing he’s ever encountered, thunder rumbles. Julian mentally curses. He’s not to silly with infatuation to be able to convince himself that sitting under a tree in a storm is a good idea. Given their track record one or both of them is bound to get struck by lightning if they try it.

“Maybe we should call this off…” Babe says, biting his lip.

“Oh… no, it’s…” Julian doesn’t really have an answer, but he doesn’t want to give up on this opportunity.

“Every time we’re together something goes wrong,” Babe explains. “I mean, maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

“You think it’s a sign?” Julian doesn’t want to agree with that, but he can’t pretend he hasn’t noticed how persistently fate seems to come between them.

“I’m not usually superstitious,” Babe says. “Well, not overly superstitious, only about regular stuff like black cats and pavement cracks, but… I’ve always been a bit of a disaster but you don’t need to be caught up in my bad luck.”

Julian can’t help laughing at that. “Who says I wasn’t jinxed enough all on my own?” he points out. “Remember how we met.”

“But that’s even worse,” Babe says, looking stricken. “If you’re unlucky then you need somebody to balance you out, not somebody just as bad. Maybe everything that’s gone wrong is the universe trying to tell us that.”

Maybe Babe is right about Julian needing somebody who has their shit together enough for two, but he wants Babe. “If fate really didn’t want us to do this, it would stop us, right?”

Babe looks dubious, but Julian’s not giving up. “C’mon. Let’s go back to your car, maybe the proper picnic idea is a washout, but we can find something else to do.

“I… if you want to risk it,” Babe says hesitantly, taking a step forward. His sneaker hits a wet leaf and he slips, and that’s it, that’s the sign he’d been hoping they wouldn’t get that, the universe telling them they’re both wasting their time, except Babe turns his fall into a stagger and instead of hitting the ground he crashes into Julian.

Julian grabs Babe, trying to keep them both up but the pavement is already rain slick and his sneakers are old with worn out grip and so he slips, stomach lurching as he falls backward with no way of catching himself.

He lands hard, the jolt rattling his bones so badly that it takes him a moment to realise that instead of hitting the tarmac he’s hit wood, landing sprawled across the top of one of the park’s picnic tables, pulling Babe down on top of him, so close their noses were brushing and he could feel the warm rush of Babe’s breath over his lips.

“Gotcha,” he whispers. “See?”

“We- I fell over,” Babe protests. “That’s more bad luck.”

“The universe caught us,” Julian points out, then kisses him before anything else can happen to stop them.


End file.
